Miss Fulton

You look up and take your right hand from under the desk as Miss Fulton pokes her head in the door. “Hello, Mr. Sharp! I just wanted to check on how your first day of classes was going.”

You lean forward, your right hand on the desk, your left hand gripping Elizabeth’s hair. “Oh, it’s been fine. Better than expected, I’d say.” You hear a faint sound of protest from below, which inspires you to press harder, until you can feel a cute little nose on your skin and the back of her throat on your cock.

The beautiful blonde teacher walks into the room, her heels clacking on the floor. “Oh, good,” she says. “I don’t know if you’ve worked with girls this age before, but they can be a handful.”

“I think I’ve got things well in hand,” you say. One of Elizabeth’s feet bumps against the side of the desk, and you tighten your grip on the student's hair, pulling at her scalp in warning.